Taking the Fall (4 page)

I opened my mouth to retort, but Blythe squeezed my arm. “The kids, Brenna,” she whispered.

Rebecca’s kid, a girl about six years old, looked up at me with her arms crossed and her bottom lip sticking out. Her hair was just like her mother’s. Most of it was still wound into a tight bun, topped with a crooked silver and pink tiara, but a few defiant, gel-encrusted sprigs sprang free. “You’re not welcome here!”

“Yeah!” The little boy stopped hopping. “You should leave.”

The tiara bobbed up and down as the girl nodded. “Go home!”

“No one is driving Miss Ruth anywhere.” I directed my words at the mothers.
Except your kids, who’re probably solely responsible for driving her crazy, if they’re half the pain in the patootie you two are
, I wanted to say.

“I think there’s a big misunderstanding here,” Blythe said smoothly. “Ruth called
us
. She’d decided to move before—”

Stacey laughed right in Bly’s face. “You expect anyone to believe that?” She shrugged. “Fine. Stay. Just try to open your judo school. You won’t last long without any students, will you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I folded my arms to keep myself from shoving Stacey away.

Rebecca said, “Bonney Bay sticks together. We back up our own. Even the ones too nice to stand up to sleaze like you.”

Blythe’s mouth actually fell open. “Sleaze!”

“Rolling around on the floor.” Rebecca glanced at the kids, then lowered her voice to a hushed—and repulsed—whisper. “Even on top of boys. It’s disgusting. Vulgar.”

Judo looks more like wrestling than karate. We don’t kick and punch; we throw each other to the mat and pin, choke, or arm bar. It’s rough. It’s sweaty. It’s not for girls who can’t part with their makeup. Though a grown woman would never compete against a man in a tournament, we practice together all the time. And as for the little kids—like these precious angels standing in front of me—they often had co-ed competitions.

“Way too low class for Bonney Bay,” Stacey agreed.

Blythe took a deep breath and stood up tall. “Judo is an Olympic sport. And Brenna Battle is
World Class
. In case you didn’t know.”

“Oh, I know plenty.” Stacey gave Blythe a dismissive look and turned to me and bored right into me with wide, crazy-lashed eyes. “I looked you up. You couldn’t cut it, and now you expect us little folks in our little town to thank our lucky stars you show up here?”

I was going to lose it. Any second now, they’d be coming for me with a straight jacket.

Blythe grabbed my arm, more sharply than usual. “Bren,” she whispered. She jerked her head a little—toward a police car that had pulled up next to us. Great. Did these gems have the cops on their side, too? I was biting back a smart remark about being arrested for Moving to Bonney Bay While Not Being Sufficiently Classy when the door opened, and a police officer stepped out.

“Hello, ladies. Is there a problem?”

The deep male voice gave me a jolt. The kind of jolt I most certainly did not appreciate feeling when it came from a tall, well-muscled young cop who clearly spent a
lot
of time in the gym—probably just to enhance his look and his edge on the beach volleyball court, I reminded myself. Well, to be fair, the beach was probably too rocky for that here, not to mention a little chilly. But I knew the type. I knew better than to get sucked in by a puffed-up jock. And the only thing worse than a puffed-up jock was a puffed-up jock cop.

“Yes!” the kids answered the cop.

“No!” all the adults said at the same time.
 

The officer raised his eyebrows at Rebecca and Stacey. Then he bent down so he was at eye level with the kids. He looked the tiara girl in the eye. “Abby?”

I saw Rebecca’s hand move toward little Abby, to pinch or poke her, but the kid had a sixth sense for her mother’s warnings and dodged it like a pro. “We don’t want these judo people here. We want Miss Ruth.”

I swear, that kid hissed at the officer like a snake. Officer Friendly stood back up abruptly and muttered, “Everyone’s going to miss Ruth and Little Swans.”

I thought he was about to get philosophical about how change was a part of life, but I guess he was still too freaked out over how vehemently Bonney Bay’s newest citizens were hated.

“We don’t like judo people!” the little boy added.

His carefully combed strawberry-blond hair barely moved as he shook his head. It looked like it had been sprayed almost as much as his mother’s poofy ’do. I hoped it was just for the performance.

The officer said, “Well, I guess you don’t like me then, Leo. Did you know we do judo at the Police Athletic Club?” It was clear from the look on the women’s faces that they
didn’t
know that.

My heart rose, then sank. Everyone didn’t hate us—and judo—here after all. We might even have an ally here, in the local police! A very handsome police officer, who was willing to come to my—well, probably Blythe’s—rescue. And that was just it, wasn’t it? He was trying to kiss up. I studied his strong but clearly never-broken fingers. His perfect ears, not “cauliflowered” by years of rough workouts. He was either new to judo or he was talking completely out of his you-know-what. Typical puffed-up jock.
Sigh.

Rebecca grabbed Abby’s hand. “Well, that’s fine for you,” she snapped. “I’m sure such things are necessary, you know, working with criminals and all … ”

“But not for our kids!” Stacey finished for her. She yanked Leo along, too.

“Wow,” the officer said.

I folded my arms. “Yeah.”

Blythe shook her head. “I thought things went so well at the party. I had no idea … ”

Officer Friendly smiled at Blythe warmly and held out his hand. “I’m Officer Will Riggins.” I watched him closely, looking for that predatory spark my sister had such a knack for attracting. And that’s when I noticed it was me he was looking at, out of the corner of his eye. Deep, dark brown eyes with thick, heavy lashes.

Blythe introduced herself and shook his hand. I barely heard her introduce me, with the mixture of attraction and panic burbling up from my heart and into my head.
 

“Blythe does judo too,” I blurted. Where did that come from? It came from the wicked part of me that would throw my beautiful sister at this guy like a sacrificial lamb rather than risk getting hurt again myself, that’s where. I was stunned to discover there was such a side to myself when the tables were turned.

“Well, the two of you are more than welcome to come by and practice with us any time. I’m sure you could teach us quite a bit.”

I slapped my public figure smile back on.
Sure. I’ll bet I can guess exactly what kind of things you have in mind, Officer Friendly
.

“Thanks, but I think we’ll be pretty busy getting this place set up.” I gestured at the pink building behind us.

“Of course. Here.” He fumbled for his card. “Give me a call if you … have any problems. And … ” He took a pen from his pocket and scribbled on the card, glanced warily at me, then handed it to Blythe with a sheepish shrug. “Our practice times, in case you two change your mind and decide to come by.”

Ha! Fat chance. What a jerk. I guess either one of us would do for Officer Will Riggins. I snatched the card just before Blythe’s fingers closed around it.

“Thanks,” I said icily.

Officer Riggins straightened his broad shoulders. The glimmer of nervousness, of eagerness, disappeared, and his dark eyes sparked with something that struck me distinctly as a challenge.

I smiled. I loved a challenge, and I rarely lost one.

Riggins puffed himself back up and got back in his squad car.
 

“I thought he was nice.” Blythe gave me that innocent, puzzled,
Why are you so mean, Brenna?
Look.

Of course you did
, I thought.
That’s why you married Jake
.
 

“Don’t tell me he set off your creep-o-meter, too.”

I opened my mouth to tell her that of course he had. But that was just it. He hadn’t. Those dark, sincere eyes had nearly drawn me in, and not a blip of an alarm from the creep-o-meter, when his “interest” in me alone should have set it off. I’d almost bought his act there for a minute. What was wrong with me? What was I going to do if my creep-o-meter was broken?
 

I shrugged. “I’m so tired. Let’s get some real food and figure out where we’re going to sleep tonight.”

And then, maybe we’d go to that practice after all. Better to settle this thing with Officer Friendly—and give my creep-o-meter another chance to affirm what I knew must be true—sooner rather than later, right?

5

Sally’s Diner was a short walk down the street from the studio and apartment. Tired as I was, it felt good to stretch my legs and inhale the fresh, cool air. Blythe had called the local inns to inquire about a room for the night, and we’d found out Bonney Bay was apparently accustomed to hosting well-to-do couples looking for a quiet getaway in a quaint little town; not a couple of twenty-somethings trying to hang onto their pennies to start up a new business. So we’d settled on the fact that we were in for a night of sleeping on the floor of our new apartment above the dance studio. We decided to splurge on a good meal instead. By the time we took quick showers in the empty little apartment Ruth had left for us, we were dying for a meal.

“Mmm.” Blythe savored one of the last bites of her spinach and salmon quiche.

I leaned back against the padded seat of our booth and patted my stomach. I’d polished off an enormous bleu cheese burger topped with coleslaw and arugula, with two baskets of steak fries. What can I say? I was starving, and the fry refills were free.

Blythe stared dreamily out the window, watching the sailboats drift by in water glimmering with fading summer daylight. “Did I tell you about Ellison’s boat?”

I’m proud to say, I did not roll my eyes at the mention of the boat Ellison had spent about twenty minutes bragging about to a rapt Blythe. “I think I overheard a little. Listen, Blythe, we’ve got so many things to figure out, so much work to do. Not to mention figuring out how this town works. I think it would be good for both of us to take a break from guys for a while. So we can focus.”

A smile tugged at Blythe’s lips as she fought it back. Her eyes twinkled at me.

“Just say it, Bly.”

“You’ve been taking a break from guys your whole life!”

“Which is how I was able to focus!”

“You’re right.” Blythe nodded sincerely. “I’ve always admired your focus. And I agree. We have a lot going on, and we need to keep our eyes on the prize.”

“Exactly!”

“But!” She held her palm up to stop me. “I can totally see you with that Will Riggins.”

“The cop?”

She nodded. “Don’t act like you don’t remember his name. I think he likes you. Or he would, if you’d stop trying to stare him down.”

“We just met the guy—”

“Eventually, when the time is right, of course.”

Right. When you-know-where freezes over.
 

A laugh I’d heard all too much of over the last couple of hours drifted from the front of the restaurant. I looked up and saw our beloved Ellison Baxter chatting with the owner.

“Ellison!” Blythe waved, rising up a little in her seat.

“Blythe!” Ellison answered.

He strode over to our table while I drowned my would-be mutterings with a long sip of Coke.

“I thought I might find you two here.”

Cre-e-e-py.

Ellison flashed his cute,
Pretending-to-Be-a-Shy-Nerd-While-Really-a-Shark
smile. “Looks like I just missed joining you two for dinner. How about dessert?”

Blythe lit up like a sunbeam, while I tried to flash her some hazard lights. For crying out loud, hadn’t we just talked about her taking a break from guys?

“Sure. Have a seat.”

I tried to give Blythe
The Look
, but it was too late. That snake was quick. He was already slithering into the booth right next to her. Great. A same-side sitter. A mental image of his hand sneaking onto Blythe’s thigh burst into my head.

“No!” I said.

They both stared at me. I searched my mind for something, anything. Hopefully something remotely rational. “Sorry, Ellison. We can’t do dessert.”

“I want dessert,” Blythe’s eyes narrowed a little.

“Well, if you’re watching your weight … ” Ellison gave my plate a skeptical look.

I grabbed the lone, dejected french fry that remained—you know, the one that got just a little too crispy in the fryer—and popped it in my mouth.

“I’m
not
watching my weight,” I said with my mouth full of dry french fry. “Not anymore.”

Ellison smiled, but his look said,
Maybe you should be
.

“It’s a shame we can’t stay and chat, but we really have to go. Judo practice, remember, Blythe?”

Blythe raised her eyebrows at me.

“At the Police Athletic Club. That nice Officer Riggins invited us to join them tonight.” I gave Ellison my sweetest smile.

“Oh.” Blythe smiled at Ellison, too. I could tell she’d rather be rolling her eyes at me. But Blythe Battle didn’t roll her eyes in public. “Maybe some other time, Ellison. What time was practice again, Bren? Seven-thirty?”

I dug Riggins’s card out of my pocket, then checked my phone for the time. Oh, crud. What was I getting myself into? I’d just wolfed down a whole burger, and practice started in half an hour. I eyed my plate, feeling sick already. That delicious indulgence was going to sit in the pit of my stomach like a rock. Did I mention judo has a way of making people puke? I never practice on a full, let alone just-stuffed-to-the-max-with-grease stomach.

It wasn’t like it was going to be an elite-level workout. Still, it was my chance to show these local guys, no doubt bigger and stronger than me, what I was made of.

6

The Bonney Bay Police Athletic Club held their judo practices in an old, stand-alone garage behind the police station. The decrepit, but freshly painted building didn’t seem to go with anything. Presumably the house it had once belonged to had been torn down, a
long
time ago. If it had happened within the last two decades, surely no one would’ve even considered not bulldozing this old thing down with it.